Send My Conscience Home in a Taxi

Externalised Memory

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Weekend, Part 4: The Sunday I Tried to Go To Geelong
Drawing of a trike
maxcelcat
(Before I forget: Amusing story from our weekend house hunting. We looked at a place in Northcote which was kinda behind Northcote High. I'd been teasing Barbara about her lack of men - as usual - and made some comment about how "at least this place is near the highschool". She found this far more amusing than it should have been...)

Ok, Sunday. I finally crowbared my arse out of bed around 10AM. This was a problem, because I had to make a trip down to Geelong - my grandfather is ailing apparently. Although... it's hard to tell from the way my Mother tells it. He's not doing to badly for someone 93 years old, but then people that age can fade fast.

I managed to get out of bed and get to the station, only to find that the train was at 10.35 from Merri, and the Geelong train was at 11AM - that doesn't work. So I jogged back to my place and drove to Spencer Street station in about fifteen minutes flat. I should mention at this point that my car is old and tired and not up to long journeys like Geelong. I seriously thought about renting a car, but couldn't think of a way to make that work - the rental places are all in Preston, and I've had had to return the car before work on Monday which would have sucked. Tried to borrow my dad's car, but a cousin had beaten me to it.

Anyway, made the station, then watched the minutes till the train left counting down while I stood in the ticket queue. I was almost at the head of the queue when the departure time on the wall clicked over to "now". I put my wallet back in my pocket and stomped off... Only to see the train still standing there. Fuck fuck fuck. I could probably have made it. Fuck fuck.

Decided it was high time to get some breakfast, so I drove to the Tin Pot cafe in Fitzroy. It occurs to me that part of the reason I'm always broke is because of my instance on living in the inner city and doing the inner city thing... I was watching all the tattoo and pierced hip young things sipping their lattes, and I thought... I should disengage, stop looking for houses in Fitzroy, head out to Coburg or somewhere and cook for myself routinely. I am not a bright young 20 something any more.

Which I then proved further by going home and more or less passing out. I slept for most of the afternoon. This last week caught up with me. Then I dragged myself to the gym. Will have to make the trip to Geeeeeeeeeeeelong next weekend...
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